


An Experience, Twice Shared

by ticktockclockwork



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: I promise, M/M, Pheromones, everything is consensual folx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:34:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktockclockwork/pseuds/ticktockclockwork
Summary: The people in town had warned them: the pheromones that were created by the creature in the woods would drive you mad with lust. They'd hidden their blushing cheeks behind demure hands but the warning was given all the same. Mind where you go, mind what you breathe, lest you fall victim to the creatures' toxic smell.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 26
Kudos: 296





	An Experience, Twice Shared

The people in town had warned them: the pheromones that were created by the creature in the woods would drive you mad with lust. They'd hidden their blushing cheeks behind demure hands but the warning was given all the same. Mind where you go, mind what you breathe, lest you fall victim to the creatures' toxic smell.

Jaskier was skeptical, to say the least. He thought that the townsfolk had just found themselves in good company in those woods and rather than ruin their reputations they concocted this "creature" to explain it all away. He'd said as much to Geralt and the Witcher didn't dispute his theory. Geralt hadn't heard of such a monster before and doubted what he'd find. He had almost refused the contract due to his suspicions but they'd insisted so he'd agreed. He would investigate the woods and deal with whatever it was that was driving these villagers to abandon their beds and seek satisfaction out in the marsh.

It was two days travel to where the monster was supposedly living: a days travel by road and another by foot. The second day was much less pleasant than the first as Geralt and Jaskier had to navigate their way through marshland that made finding steady footing a near impossible task. Twice Jaskier had slipped down a small embankment and nearly lost his lute, to say nothing for his ruined clothes. Even Geralt, better outfitted for such an adventure, was finding the journey taxing, both on his equipment and his nerves. When they made camp that night they did so in the driest place they could find, which still meant sleeping on damp earth, swatting away bugs that bit the flesh.

"How much did they say they'd pay us again?" Jaskier asked as he slapped the side of his neck, grimacing by the smear of bug on his palm.

"Not enough, that's for damn sure." Geralt grunted in return. He shuffled closer to stoke the fire up again. It was muggy and warm but the fire and smoke was helping with the bugs. "Hand me my pack."

Jaskier dragged the bag over and shoved it into Geralt's outstretched hand, watching as the Witcher dug into it and pulled out a bundle of herbs. The apothecary in town had given it to them, claiming it had the ability to stave off any untoward urges that might be sparked by the creatures' smell. Given that the likelihood this creature even  _ existed  _ was slim to none, Geralt wasn't going to bother saving it for that.

"What are you doing?" Jaskier asked, shuffling closer so he could see by the firelight.

Geralt pulled out his small paring knife and cut the twine holding the bundle together. "There's eucalyptus in here, which is good for keeping bugs away when burned." He disassembled the bundle then tossed about half the dried herbs in, wrinkling his nose as they immediately caught and began smoking. Jaskier coughed as the smoke blew into his face but once it had passed he slumped in relief as the constant buzzing that had been plaguing them all evening finally quieted down. The herbs stung his eyes a bit but the bugs had indeed left and for that he was thankful.

"Oh heavenly days, what a relief." He sighed, flopping back on his bedroll and ignoring the slight give the marshy undergrowth had from his weight. "If I'd known this is what we'd have to put up with to see a sex monster, I would have declined from the beginning."

"There's no such thing as a sex monster." Geralt rolled his eyes as he watched the bard, feeling relief of his own though he didn't show it.

"Well I know that, but the prospect was certainly enticing. Not as enticing as a dry bed and a warm bath, mind you, not anymore. But at the time a monster that makes you have really amazing sex? Who wouldn't agree to see that."

Geralt hummed in amusement and closed his eyes to relax, allowing the musky smell of the herbs to sink into him, lulling him into meditation. Jaskier was still talking but it became pleasant background noise as Geralt found peace within his mind.

When he woke again it was hours later and the fire was nearly cool. Jaskier had gone to sleep wrapped around his lute and Geralt watched him for a moment before standing to get more wood for the fire. He could see the last remains of the herbs around the edges of the fire and eyed then with a sigh. He didn't have enough for the rest of the night and knew that by morning the bugs would be back and worse than ever. The best he could do for now was get a fire going and hope the smoke would give them a little reprieve.

As quietly as he could he grabbed a small hand axe from his pack and headed out into the woods. Moonlight struggled to filter down to them, too caught up in the moss and branches to do more than dust them in a hazy green light. As Geralt moved he kept an eye on his feet so as to not fall victim to a hidden root or stump. If he weren't concentrating so hard on his footing he might have seen the creeping mist that was edging near him as he walked. He would see it drifting along the ground behind him, kissing his heels as he walked. 

Skepticism clouded his judgement though. Had he believed the stories he'd been told about the creature in the woods he might have been more alert to the signs. As it were, he only noticed when a branch snapped to his left and he looked up into the face of the thing that was stalking him.

If it was beautiful, he couldn't describe it. It was foreign, striking no similarities to anything he'd seen before. It had a wide, piercing stare and held Geralt's gaze. Geralt knew he should be scared or worried or at the very least  _ thinking _ but instead all he could do was look, his body in no rush to do more than that.

The mist around his feet grew so thick it obscured his boots and finally he understood. Involuntarily he took in a deep breath and everything around his vision turned soft, gaussian in nature. The only thing he could see with clarity were the eyes of this thing. 

He dropped his axe, his fingers relaxing around the handle too much to hold onto it any longer. The creature drew closer and circled him. It stood on four legs but it's body was too long and covered in… fur? Or feathers, perhaps. Geralt's vision was too muddled to tell. As he drew closer Geralt could hear it sniffing, could hear it smelling him. It seemed to like whatever it was picking up because it leaned in to press its face against Geralt's jaw, then throat, then cheek. As it butted against him a light powdery dust came off his feathers, like a moth's wings and Geralt felt it fall to his eyelashes. When he blinked he felt it in his eyes and when he breathed he could almost taste it on his tongue.

And still he didn't move. He didn't want to although his mind begged to differ. He'd never become so incapacitated so quickly and the thought should be frightening but his heartbeat remained steadfastly sluggish and his eyes continued to follow the creatures gaze.

When it had gotten it's fill it pulled away, bright baleful eyes still pinning Geralt in place. Briefly he wondered if the thing could blink, with eyes as wide as those, but before he could muster up the energy to be mad about such a trivial thought, the creature shook its body back and forth like a wet dog after a bath. Clouds of this powder emanated from the creature, sweeping over Geralt and filling his lungs. His vision warped and everything became ringed with colors - blues and pinks and greens - trailing and slow as he cut his eyes left and right. He blinked and the creature twisted it's head sideways. He blinked again and it was stepping away.

Without warning he felt his body lurch, a small movement of his feet lifting to turn him around, but motion after such stillness felt monumental. One step, then two, and he was walking, moving back to camp, finally of his own volition. He wanted to run, to sprint back and rouse Jaskier and demand they leave but he could muster no energy to move faster.

His vision was still twisted, nearly right except for the colors ringing everything. As he neared camp he felt his heart rate kick up, fear starting to settle as the last hovering scent of burned herbs hit his nostrils. He looked back into the woods.

The creature was gone.

When he'd left camp he'd done so quietly, purposeful steps held gentle so as to not wake the bard. He made no motion to do the same upon his return and his heavy footfalls woke Jaskier immediately.

"Geralt?" He asked, keeping his eyes trained towards the noise even as he scrabbled for the dagger he kept near his head.

Geralt stumbled towards him, relief flooding in where fear hadn't previously been allowed. The emotion was so all consuming he dropped to his knees by Jaskier and reached for him immediately.

The bard startled at Geralt's grip and doubly so when he felt the trembles in the man's body. "Geralt?! What, gods, what happened, where were you?" He asked, sitting up fully to try to see him better. He was at a disadvantage here, with his normal human eyes struggling to see in the dark, so he missed the fine dusting of powder that was on Geralt's clothes and face. Instead he pulled the other closer, arms sliding around his back. 

"Saw it." Geralt's voice sounded thunderous in his own ears and he nearly winced from the noise of it. 

"Saw it? What do you mean? What did you see?"

Frustration colored his face. He'd finally found his voice and he could barely get it to work. His vision was still colored and hazy and he feared what was in his lungs, what he believed might now be in Jaskier's lungs. "The creature. Saw it."

"You what?" Jaskier's voice jumped an octave and Geralt could tell he didn't know whether to be excited or scared. "Did you kill it?"

"No."

The former began to give way to the latter. "No? But you're unharmed right? You got away?"

Geralt was quiet for too long because he didn't like the answer either. "No."

It was the truth, as unpalatable as it was. He'd done nothing. He hadn't fought. He hadn't run. He hadn't escaped. "It let me go."

And now Jaskier reeked of fear. The implication of Geralt's statement wasn't lost on him. The monsters they normally fought were mindless things, barely above animals, running on instinct and little else. To imply this creature had Geralt in it's sight and  _ chose  _ to release him was a new level of frightening Jaskier wasn't ready to accept.

"I want to leave Geralt." He whispered and gripped tighter. 

The fear was nearly suffocating now, pervading Geralt's senses and choking him. It dripped off the bard in waves and when Geralt looked at him he could swear he could see it coloring his skin. And yet, he still made no motion to leave.

He could feel the fear in his own body, feel it mingling with Jaskier's but he didn't want to leave. His flight instinct should be kicking in but instead he wanted to soothe, to protect. Before he could even track it, that became the prominent emotion. The instinct to care for Jaskier and quell his fears superceded the fear and when he pulled back to look at the bard, the colors shifted. There was a flicker and what was green and pink before became blue, hot and bright and almost painful to his eyes. It slid down Jaskier's throat and Geralt reached up to trace it, running fingertips along Jaskier's neck.

Jaskier gasped and the colors flared. Geralt glanced down and he could see the mist once again, around their knees and infiltrating the campsite. As he ran his thumb along Jaskier's throat, that blue color swept down and sunk into the rest of the mist, mingling with it, like pigments in water.

A stray thought passed through his mind, about emotions and hunger and what such a creature might eat, before his attention was drawn once more to Jaskier. The bard was looking dazed and Geralt was sure that the effects of the mist and the powder were starting to take hold. He hadn't gotten the full dosage as Geralt had, not right from the source but Geralt was sure the creature wasn't far and that to Jaskier's human lungs this would be enough.

"Jask." Geralt spoke his name on a breath, closing his eyes and tucking his face to the others throat. He knew he should resist, knew that it was the toxin amplifying what they were feeling but he also knew, or at least believed, that what he was feeling was not without its root. He'd danced with his feelings for Jaskier for years and had clue enough to believe that the feelings were mutual. But it had been so long and neither had taken that first step that he'd accepted it for what it would forever be.

What he was feeling now was only a magnification of what was already there. A desire to keep close, a desire to soothe, a desire to protect. A warmth in his belly that had him pressing his lips to Jaskier's jaw and holding his breath.

There was silence in the woods around them, even the bugs had fallen quiet as they waited, until barely above a whisper Jaskier breathed out "again".

Geralt pulled back to be sure. What he saw was the face of a man who never turned down an adventure, who embraced every experience with excitement. There was fear there still, fear of the unknown, of the alien nature of their communion, but nothing directed at Geralt. 

He closed his eyes and kissed his bard.

Colors erupted once again and Jaskier groaned as he clamored to find purchase in Geralt's lap. Hunger crashed down onto them both like a wave and briefly Geralt wondered what color it had taken on before Jaskier was yanking on his hair and pulling his face back.

"Geralt." He groaned, face flushed. "I've waited so- I wa-"

"I know." 

Geralt rolled them over pinning Jaskier down too hard then chasing the pain with a gentler kiss, apologizing and explaining and hoping all in one. Jaskier took it all and gave as much back, soothing and accepting and hoping in return. He arched up to meet him and Geralt's could see red coalescing around them both before he focused solely on removing their clothes.

It was in exercise in patience as neither could keep their hands off one another long enough to quickly divest themselves of their garments. Geralt's were particularly difficult with all his buttons and ties. Partway through Jaskier had just given a good strong pull and ripped half the buttons off. It resulted in Geralt hungrily pressing his mouth against the others throat and he wasted more time leaving marks on Jaskier's neck than they would have spent undoing the buttons proper.

As the fear had turned to protection, so was that turning into lust. But not the consuming lust of a drunkard in a brothel or the lust of adolescence experiencing it for the first time. This was lust borne of deprivation, a denial so strong and so shared that it's absence left a void that only pure unadulterated  _ need _ could fill. 

Clothes finally gone, their hands were now free to touch. Jaskier pushed at Geralt until he was laid back then wasted no time mapping the timeline of scars littered over Geralt's body. When he finished he started all over again and did so so many times that Geralt was nearly writhing from the sensation. But he didn't stop him, not until Jaskier was satisfied, not until he tipped down for another kiss as if he'd forgotten that he was allowed.

Geralt turned them this time and spent as much time exploring Jaskier's body as the other had done to him. When Jaskier handed him a vial of oil from his own pack, he started his exploration over again until Jaskier was the one twisting and nearly begging. Geralt had no idea how long they'd been doing this but there was sweat on both their bodies when Jaskier sank down onto Geralt in his lap, red and pink and magenta flaring to life all around his eyes.

If Geralt were so inclined, he'd call it religious.

Jaskier held his face but didn't kiss him, instead panting against his lips then nodding when he was ready for them to move. Geralt gripped his hips for leverage then helped him rise and fall again with a thrust of his hips. Jaskier nearly sobbed in pleasure, the sound captured in Geralt's mouth where they were pressed so close and he wondered what Jaskier saw when he felt this, and if it was anything as beautiful as what Geralt was being shown.

Jaskier was a resplendence of colors, unfathomable shades grabbing every inch of him. When Geralt thrust up into him colors exploded along his chest; when he cried out, his voice shimmered out around him. He was mesmerizing and all-encompassing and Geralt knew now why the people in town had no words for what they'd experienced. This was unnamable. No language could do it justice.

So he moved instead of speaking, laying exhalation into every mark on Jaskier's skin. They kissed when they could spare the breath, held tight when they couldn't, and never, ever pulled away. When Geralt felt his release coming, he thought he would go blind from the kaleidoscope emanating from the other. He slid his arms around Jaskier and held him close, guiding him by the small of his back. "Jask-" he gasped, feeling Jaskier tense up around him with his own release. He could do nothing but follow, shout buried in Jaskier's shoulder, vision going white as he held him tight.

When he came to again the sky was beginning to lighten. Jaskier was asleep in his arms, body exhausted. Geralt could relate. When he looked around the mist was gone and the sounds of the marsh around them had returned. There was no sign of the creature but Geralt hadn't expected there to be. He was sure it had gotten it's fill the night previous and would move on to a fresh forest now.

The sound of movement drew his attention back to his bard and he looked down to see Jaskier watching him with caution. They were both naked, Geralt holding himself over the other on his arm, and he knew Jaskier was waiting for him to give some indication on how to proceed. Though he could no longer see it, he could smell the sharp accent of fear just behind Jaskier's trepidation.

Geralt lifted his hand and set it to Jaskier's belly. He slid it up his chest and touched his chin, watching Jaskier's eyes flutter closed with relief. "Long overdue." He whispered, hoping Jaskier would get it.

"Monumentally so, I would say." 

Geralt could do nothing but grunt out a laugh before leaning down to pick up where they'd left off.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


"A vampire you say?"

"Of sorts, yes." Geralt explained to the town leader where she sat across from him in the tavern. "It feeds off emotions rather than blood but the concept is the same. The pheromones amplify emotions for it to feed."

"Did you kill it?" She asked, raising a brow as she looked him over, doubting him for his lack of wounds.

Geralt thought carefully before he answered. "It won't trouble you anymore." And there was truth in what he said though not the kind that matched her question. When he and Jaskier could rise, slowly, and many hours later, Geralt had spent the rest of the day scouting the woods for any sign that the creature was still there. He found none and instinct told him the beast had moved on or gone into hibernation. 

Even if it hadn't he wasn't inclined to kill it. In the end it had done them no harm, just as it had done none to the others in town. Geralt didn't believe the creature could fabricate emotions, only magnify them. And now that it had its fill, it wouldn't bother this area again. "If it returns, you can send word, though I doubt that it will." 

His confidence was satisfaction enough for her and though he could see just a touch of disappointment in the eyes of those around him who had experienced the creatures' abilities for themselves and perhaps wanted more, he knew it was for the best either way. "Will you be moving on now?" She asked as she signed the contract complete and handed him his pay.

He glanced back to Jaskier where the bard was playing his lute gently, meeting his eyes and warming from his smile. "No. I think we will rest here a few days if your inn would have us. A respite is in order, to recover. You understand."

She followed his gaze and watched for just a moment before smiling to herself. "Indeed. I think I do. Enjoy your stay, Witcher. And thank you, again." She touched his shoulder briefly before standing and leaving him be.

Geralt watched her go with the distinct impression of having missed something but he didn't dwell. Not when he could stand instead, and drag the bard away for another sleepless night.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [@ticktockclockwork](http://ticktockclockwork.tumblr.com)


End file.
